All the pieces
by ashion
Summary: A little drabble about Shepard musing as she watches Garrus sleep not long after their 'second' reunion onboard the Normandy following the battle on Omega.


_This is just a little ramble on drabble that's been sitting in my head for a while. First ME fic EVER!_

She was surprised to find the door unlocked. Honestly she didn't think he would trust the crew enough to do something like that, especially xenophobic Cerberus operatives. He must be a lot worse off than she originally guessed after their brief secondary reunion.

Triggering the door open the truth of the matter became apparent. Garrus was lying awkwardly on his 'good' side on the standard military issue cot, long legs dangling over the side. All of his upper body armor stacked haphazardly at his feet. By the looks of things that's as far as the still recovering turian got before fatigue or whatever pain killer drugs Mordin or Chakwas had dosed him with took effect.

Silently slipping into the room, making sure the door closed behind her, Ashionari Shepard moved to the small desk within the narrow room. Leaning back on the edge of the study desk her blue eyes wandered over his long strangely shaped physique. Her eyes lingered on the horrid scaring on his face and neck and the swath of bandages she could see peaking through the tears and burn holes in the shoulder and chest areas of his ruined black undershirt.

She'd been so afraid that after everything, all the joy and hope of finding at least one friend, one man she could trust unequivocally again in her screwed up little world, was snatched away from her when she saw him lying there on the floor.

The acrid smell of burnt flesh, hot metal and the tang of freshly spilled blood still burns in her sinuses so many hours after the incident. Even now she can smell the burnt metal of his ruined armor with a strong undercurrent of medigel and disinfectants.

After some prodding, Chakwas had relinquished Garrus' medical report. Punctured lung, shattered jaw and mandible, minor skull fractures, third degree full thickness burns of the face and neck and multiple bullet wounds. That was just from the last battle. She'd also found evidence of sever fatigue and minor malnutrition suggesting he'd potentially been holed up in that apartment for well over a week maybe more with minimal supplies and no sleep.

Eyes tracing over the sleeping form, Shepard can't help but wonder how he even made it through that disastrous battle. _'He's one tough bastard'_. No truer words were spoken in her mind. The mess of ruined armor was more than proof he should not have survived.

Staring at the nasty mass of raw scars marring half the right side of his face and ruining his colony markings she can't help but subconsciously reach up to touch her own face. Where once her fingers would have traced a broad scar running across the bridge of her nose from cheek to cheek they now touch almost flawless dark brown skin. New, slowly healing scars now dotted her skin thanks to Cerberus' work to revive her.

She still wasn't sure whether she wanted to thank them, or out and out strangle that bastard Illusive Man for dragging her back into a life she didn't ask for and forcing her under his thumb. She was never one to take being forced into anything lightly.

Looking back down at the blue armor reeking of disinfectants, burnt flesh and charred metal she decided she could at least clean it for him along with her own. It was the least she could do as a small 'thank you' for him being so accepting of everything.

For a heart stopping moment after he brought up her working with Cerberus she had honestly feared he may want to leave. That the deep trust they once had was shattered. To hear him say he would follow her on any mission, even if it was a guaranteed suicide run, had suffused her very being with both joy and regret.

Joy that the deep trust they shared was still alive and strong and regret in asking such a heavy price for his unconditional loyalty.

Taking one more look at the awkward and uncomfortable way he was laying she slipped over to the bed, ever so gently she lifted and moved one long, armor clad leg then the other up onto the bed. He barely stirred, shifting slightly and murmuring something before rapidly settling again. Leaving a simple note on the screen of the computer on the desk, Shepard quickly gathered up the pieces of the turian's upper body armor then silently slipped from the room making a point to lock the door behind her. In all honesty she trusted these Cerberus people as far as she could throw them and with her biotics that was pretty damn far.

Once he was better they had a lot of catching up to do. Clearly a lot had changed in the 2 years she was gone. A lot of pieces had fallen out of place, but she at least had one important piece back in her life.

End

_Dunno if that made much sense, but its 3am and I've just basically drabbled on so may be rewritten in the future._

_My own take on my femShepard Ashionari (paragon, spacer, war hero, Vanguard in ME1) _

_Yet to get my hands on ME2 properly but seeing other people play and spoiling myself with some bits I just couldn't help but write this._

_Now back to my other stuffs…_


End file.
